


I Can Hold You Now

by AndreaLyn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-06 21:24:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19070956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: It's Alex's wedding day, but none of this feels right -- then again, life stopped feeling right three years ago when his whole world went off the rails.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to [islndgurl777](https://archiveofourown.org/users/islndgurl777) for the beta.
> 
> This whole thing goes canon divergence during 1x13, and if you want some thematic music, the whole thing was basically written to Hold You Now by Vampire Weekend on loop (where the title derives from). I'm on [tumblr](https://andrea-lyn.tumblr.com/) as ever if there are things to be said or demands to be made, but I hope you enjoy this descent into the territory of the soap opera trope.

On his wedding day, Alex stares in the mirror and frantically tries his best not to see his father in the reflection. 

Try as he might, the problem is that every time he looks, that’s Jesse Manes looking back at him in the glass. He’s not entirely sure he recognizes who he’s become, but he’s still standing and that means he’s strong. He’s definitely stronger than he thought he could be, given the last few years, since Liz Ortecho came back to Roswell.

Rough is an understatement, if he’s honest. The last three years have been full of the kind of stress and strife that could take a lesser person down and there have been times that he thought that he’d tap out. Maybe if it had only been his leg, he could have managed. Maybe coming back to Roswell and finding out what kind of conspiracy had been under their feet, maybe he could have dealt with that.

Then, three years ago, everything had gone up in flames as Alex watched the love of his life being zipped up in a body bag while his father whisked Alex off to the cabin, making promises that he’d never let anything like that happen again. The grief had lasted for so long, but he’d managed to find a way out of it.

“Hey, buddy,” Flint says when he ducks his head into the room. “Come on, your guests are waiting.” 

He sounds a little frantic, but maybe Alex’s nerves are rubbing off on him. He takes in a sharp breath, telling himself that it’s fine that Max and Isobel aren’t here. It’s fine that they declined his invitation because they don’t want to see him, and it’s fine that Maria and Liz have been questioning his decision for weeks.

The important thing is that he has his brothers here. 

“Yeah, can you tell them I’ll be out in a second?” Alex says, mustering up a smile for Flint. 

“Don’t take too long,” Flint warns. “You don’t want Andrew to do something like smarten up.”

Flint leaves on that _pleasant_ little barb, though his irritation doesn’t exactly hide the worry on his face (and Alex kind of hopes that it’s brotherly worry about the day, but he’s too paranoid to be sure). Once he’s alone again, he goes right back to fidgeting with his suit and giving himself a pep talk in the mirror. 

“Come on, Alex, this is what you want, right?” 

He needs to keep reminding himself why they’re doing this. Andrew is shipping out with his unit in a matter of weeks for his next tour and when his father had given Alex his approval, he’d almost been too stunned to process whether or not he actually wanted to get married.

“He’s dependable and smart and handsome,” he says, and it’s all the right things that he should be wanting to hear, but the trouble is that he’s missing that spark that he’d wanted. He tells himself that the wedding he wants to the man he wants is never going to happen. 

Michael isn’t here.

Alex needs to move on with his life, as painful as that sounds.

He’s buried his head in his hands (definitely messing up his hair) when he hears the door opening again. “Flint,” he snaps. “Would you give me a _minute_?”

“I mean, I know today’s your day, but rude much?” It’s not Flint replying to him, but Kyle Valenti. 

The guilt nearly bowls Alex over when he realizes how he’s snapped at his best man, which is probably not a great sign for the day or the choices that he’s made to get here. Kyle eases inside tentatively, looking handsome enough to be the groom today, whereas Alex is starting to think that he looks more suited to attend his own funeral. 

“He looks great,” Kyle shares, ducking into the room and slowing down when he sees Alex, who’s looking paler by the minute. “You…don’t.”

Alex glares at Kyle, hunched over and breathing heavily. “I think I’m having cold feet.”

“Really?” Kyle questions. “Because it kind of looks more like you’re having a panic attack.” He approaches rapidly and takes Alex’s wrist into his hand so he can take his pulse. “Alex, your heart’s racing, are you sure you’re okay?”

Is he? Because he’s about to get married and it’s not to Michael, because Michael is _dead_ at the hands of Noah, struck down before Noah had been taken out by Max and a lightning bolt. Michael had been put in a body bag by the government before Max and Isobel could heal him and carted off to probably be experimented on. 

He shakes his head. “Kyle, what am I doing?”

Alex had let himself get so wrapped up in the romance of Andrew sweeping him off his feet and his father being okay with it that he hadn’t really stopped to ask himself if he’s in love with Andrew or if he’s just moving on and grasping at whatever straw will keep him from being lonely.

Kyle sits down beside him, reaching out to squeeze Alex’s shoulder. “You’re moving on,” he says. “I know it’s hard, I know it’s probably impossible, but it’s been three years and you’re allowed to be happy.”

It’s not that Kyle’s wrong, but it also brings a question to mind that he’s been ignoring – is he happy?

“Do you think Andrew’s right for me?” Alex asks, because as much as he finds some happiness when he’s with him, there are times when he wonders how well he really knows the man. With their deployments and work schedules, sometimes it feels like they can go months without seeing one another. 

Kyle shoots him an incredulous look. “That’s really not my place to say,” he says. “Alex, you have to ask yourself that. I mean, probably before you accepted the engagement, but you’ve still got time if you don’t feel like this is right. If you think you owe something to Guerin’s memory, that’s not a good enough reason, in my opinion, but if you think you don’t love Andrew enough to marry him, then, yeah, you should talk to him. It might hurt now, but it’s better than finding out years later.”

Alex closes his eyes, his breath not really back yet. “I need five more minutes. Can you just stall them for five more minutes?”

“Okay,” Kyle says, squeezing Alex’s shoulder. “Think about it, though?”

“I will,” Alex promises, even if it sounds false to his ears. 

Kyle doesn’t look like he wants to leave, but there’s also a room out there full of his family and friends and someone needs to stall on Alex’s behalf. He’d much rather it be Kyle than for his brother to do it. 

Alex stares at himself in the mirror, trying to reconcile his reflection again. He’s thirty years old, he’s about to get married, and he needs to decide if this is the right step.

“You care about him,” he tells his reflection. “He’s good for you, he understands the life,” he recites, “and it doesn’t matter that it isn’t Guerin,” he adds, but he knows he’s lying. Even though he can’t be with Michael, his specter is still haunting Alex’s life. “It just really, really matters that this isn’t Guerin and you let him die,” he says out loud, even though he had nothing to do with it.

That had been Noah, but Alex had been the one to drive Michael out to the fight, had been the one who’d trusted him when he’d waved off his offer for backup.

Now he’s moving on, and it feels wrong. His panic is setting in again and Alex bends over to try and get some control over himself, knowing that if he delays much longer, he might actually be calling the whole thing off.

Alex isn’t entirely sure that’s the worst plan in the world, either. 

His head is between his knees and he’s trying his best to breathe when he hears the door open again. The anger has bled from him and he doesn’t snap at whoever it is that’s come to get him. He's too tired to do anything but agree to get up and be corralled, because he knows that it’s not right, but he also doesn’t think it ever will be. He might as well accept the best he can get. 

At least, that’d been his thought before he hears the next three words, spoken with the voice of a dead man. 

“Am I late?” 

Alex sits upright slowly, wondering if he’d hit his head and passed out. There, standing in a pair of medical scrubs, hair to his shoulders, is Michael Guerin. 

It's impossible. 

Max had confirmed what his father had said. He’d told Alex that Michael must be dead or off-planet, because he and Isobel couldn’t reach him. His father had been practically gleeful in telling him that the “alien threat” had been dealt with and that Alex would be protected from then on.

Michael is dead.

It’s the only reason that Alex had moved on. Now, standing there like a ghost, he’s large as life and making Alex’s panic attack worse because he’s realizing that he’s been lied to by _someone_ and he has a terrible idea he knows who had masterminded that.

“I would’ve come sooner, but orchestrating a breakout when you don’t have your powers takes a while…”

Alex wonders if he’s going to get his voice back. He lets Michael drone on about all the things he's done to escape, the sound of white noise buzzing in his ears.

They’re alone in the room, where Alex is dressed for his wedding and Michael is dressed to be an experiment, but he’s real. Is he real? He looks real. 

“You need a haircut,” is the first thing Alex says to the love of his life, who’s come to break up his wedding (at least, he thinks that’s what Michael is here to do, but it’s pretty telling that his brain has gone instantly there). He really can’t imagine today ending in any way other than Alex undoing the last three years of his life.

He could smack himself in the face for those being the first words he’s said to Michael in three years. What about _I missed you_ or _what happened to you?_ No, Alex had to lead with a comment about his hair. 

“On my list,” Michael quips, his voice sounding rough. “Your brother kept bragging about how you were getting hitched, so stopping the wedding is kind of number one and I’ll worry about the personal grooming later.”

For all that Alex has been stalling and debating whether today should even happen, hearing ‘stopping the wedding’ in Guerin’s voice brings it hurtling into reality. 

“How…?” Alex has so many questions he needs answered. He doesn’t understand any of this, and he’s not so sure that he’ll get an explanation in the next few minutes that will make sense. Luckily, Michael’s reappearance has made one thing extremely clear.

No matter what’s happening, no matter his relationships, he’s not getting married today. God, Andrew is going to kill him, but he can’t marry him knowing that Michael is alive and that he’s been having truly severe doubts. 

Michael looks so _tired_ and it brings Alex to his feet. His knees still feel wobbly, even if he's not sure if that’s because of Michael’s reappearance or his earlier panic. It’s like Michael’s a planet and Alex is the moon drifting towards his gravity, unable to stop himself. Alex reaches out to slide his fingers over the stubble on Michael’s cheek.

“You look so tired,” Alex breathes out.

“I’ve been fighting for three years to get back to you, to my family,” Michael says. “What’s your excuse?” 

Alex could cite grief. He could tell Michael all about how he’s struggled with the fact that he’s back in the family business because his father keeps him at arm’s length, just close enough that Alex keeps seeking his approval. They both know that it culminates in what today is supposed to be.

“I’m having second thoughts about the man I’m supposed to marry,” he hears himself say out loud. “I’m pretty sure that seeing as the man I love is standing here and not at the altar, I’m also now trying to figure out which exit would be the best escape.”

“Southeast,” Michael answers. “I cased the place before I burst in here. Can’t have a dramatic entrance without making sure you can escape, right?” he quips, and Alex can’t stop touching him.

It's only the heavy sound of footsteps outside the door that stop him from grabbing Michael by his curls and hauling him against the wall to kiss him, intending to kiss him once for every day that he’s been gone, stolen from him, but combat boots mean that they’re about to be interrupted and of all the possibilities, none of them are _good_.

Alex reluctantly lets go of Michael, turning to see the door opening. 

“Alex, are you…”

Andrew steps inside the room in his wedding suit atop his combat boots. He registers the situation quickly, sliding his phone away as he gapes at Guerin. He and Alex have talked about Michael a lot, but Alex has kept it pretty top-level and he’s definitely never, not once, mentioned that Michael Guerin is an alien.

It's why Andrew going for his service revolver sets off wild alarms in his head. 

“Andrew!” Alex snaps, instantly putting himself in the line of danger. He spreads his arms out as he stands in front of Michael. Years ago, he wouldn’t have been enough to cover him, but wherever he’s been kept hasn’t been serving buffet dinners, by the look of his slimmer frame.

“Stay away from him Alex, you don’t know how dangerous he really is.”

There’s a pit of dread in his stomach and things that he’s been ignoring start to push their way to the forefront. He should have known that his father accepting this relationship had been a red flag. He’d never been content with Alex’s sexual identity before, so for him to approve of Alex being with Andrew should have been a warning that he should have paid attention to.

Instead, Alex had basked in it, like he’d somehow finally won his father’s affections and had taken it as a prize instead of a warning.

“Why do you have a gun on you?” Alex asks, using Andrew’s faltering to shove Michael slightly towards the back door. 

Alex thinks back to how many conversations of Andrew’s that tapered to an end the moment Alex walked in the room, how he always kept so many of his hobbies and his personal life a secret, how he’d proposed so frantically and had cashed in on guilt and Michael’s supposed death to make Alex feel like he needed someone to take care of him…

Alex feels the visceral gut-punch of his epiphany hit him.

“Oh my god,” Alex says, hating himself for how he’d been manipulated for so many years. “You’ve been where he’s been kept, haven’t you?” His eyes flick to Michael for confirmation, but Michael is doing his best not to meet Alex’s eyes.

Andrew isn’t having the same problem.

“Your father offered me a job,” Andrew replies. “But being with you, Alex,” he says, stepping forward to grasp his hand with his free one, the gun angled away and not a present risk. “You’re incredible, and that part of the job has been so good. I want to spend our lives together, Alex. I’ll be Andrew Manes, take up your father’s work, and we’ll be _so good_ together once we do away with him.”

Yeah, he’s going to be sick. It turns out that all along, all Andrew’s really wanted is to be a Manes man.

No wonder Jesse likes him so fucking much.

“Did you ever touch him?” Alex demands. He’s letting Andrew hold onto him for now, but only because he’s still assessing the situation.

Andrew says nothing.

That makes Alex turn to Michael. “Did he ever touch you?”

Michael’s gaze is sharp and focused on the way Andrew is holding Alex’s hand, brimming with rage. If he had his powers, then Alex suspects that every breakable item in this room would have shattered by now. “Once,” is all Michael says.

Once is too many. Alex snaps into action, his other arm slamming down to disarm Andrew of the weapon, getting the gun and shoving Michael towards the door as he keeps the gun trained on Andrew. His fiancé has been working with his father, torturing Michael and hiding him away from the world. 

“Alex,” Andrew says, his voice chillingly even. “Don’t be stupid. There’s a whole room of people out there that will stop this.”

“I don’t need a whole room of people,” Alex says, and even though he doesn’t have a plan, he trusts that Michael does. Michael wouldn’t have come here without one. “I have him,” he says, keeping the gun steady on Andrew, but using his teeth to scrape off the engagement ring, spitting it out onto the floor at Andrew’s feet. “I know it’s a little late and we won’t get the deposit back, but I’m dumping you, Andrew,” Alex says. “I draw the line at torture, not to mention emotional manipulation.”

Andrew doesn’t go for the ring. His attention is split between the gun and Michael, like he’s trying to figure out which is the biggest threat.

He really should be counting Alex in that threat assessment or he’s going to find himself unpleasantly surprised.

“Run,” Alex tells him and takes the safety off.

It's immensely satisfying watching Andrew scatter out of the room, sprinting and hollering for Jesse, but as much as Alex likes seeing it happen, it also means they have a limited amount of time before things get chaotic. There are people he cares about in the wedding venue, but right now Michael is in the most trouble and they need to get him the hell out of there.

Alex needs to get himself out, too, but he’s not the alien who escaped from prison to stop a wedding, so he’s probably a little lower on the priority list. It doesn’t make it any less surreal. “I’m about to run out on my own wedding,” Alex realizes, yanking at Michael’s hand to pull him back. “Where are we going to go?”

“Max’s place,” Michael says. “We’re set up there, Isobel is working on getting Valenti, Liz, and Maria out before…”

“Before what?” Alex asks warily. “You’re not going to hurt anyone here, are you?”

“Unless you count a really long nap as hurting anyone, then no, but we need the time to get away so they can’t track us. Speaking of…” He’s on his knees before Alex can say a word, letting out a sharp sound of surprise when Michael yanks his rented pants down. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Guerin!”

Michael has Alex’s pants around his ankles, running some piece of cobbled together technology over his prosthetic (the new one that Andrew had been there for every appointment, the one that Andrew put away every night). When it starts beeping rapidly, Michael sticks the device between his teeth, digs out a screwdriver and glances up apologetically. 

“Sorry.” 

He pulls something out of framework that looks like…

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he hisses when Michael hands him the tracking device. He drops it in the glass of champagne on the table as he angrily hauls his pants back up. “I was going to marry him. I was actually going to walk down the aisle and marry a man who’s probably more in love with my father than he is with me…”

The room is starting to spin and he’s feeling dizzy.

“Alex!” Michael says sharply.

Right, he’s not the one who escaped from prison today, although escaping from a doomed marriage kind of feels a little similar. The panic attack can wait. 

He grabs at Michael’s shirt (which looks too big on him, which is something he doesn’t want to think about), and pushes him out of the back of the venue. Isobel’s waiting for them outside a car that Max is sitting in the driver’s seat of. 

She’s absently tossing a seemingly-empty canister from one hand to the other.

“Liz, Maria, and Kyle?”

“Safe and with instructions on how to get back to the meeting point. Everyone else is taking a nice, long, influence-heavy nap,” Isobel says, letting her eyes roam over Alex. “Manes,” she says, calm and icy. 

Clearly, she’s holding a grudge against what his family has done to Michael, but Alex will let her know later that she can get in line. He’s the one who gets to lead that particular charge.

“Come on,” Max says sharply. “We got them out of the way, but the ones from the prison are probably still looking for you.”

If they would go so far as to bug Alex’s prosthetic, who knows what other measures have been taken to ensure that Alex isn’t in contact with the aliens. He helps Michael into the back of the truck and lets Isobel push them flat so no one will be able to see them, draping a blanket over the both of them.

With Isobel and Max in the front, they have the whole of the backseat. Laying like this isn’t the most intimacy he’s had in a while, but it is for Michael.

There’s something pressing against Alex’s hip, which he’s trying to ignore to avoid the awkwardness, but while he’s been with Andrew in the intervening years, he’s never made him feel the way that Michael can. 

“Sorry,” Michael says hoarsely. “Human contact doesn’t happen much, it’s not on purpose.”

Alex breathes out slowly, the skin of Michael’s neck so close. “Are you telling me you don’t find me hot anymore?” he asks teasingly, even if he still feels like he’s on the precipice of crying with relief, anger, and exhaustion at what Michael has had to go through.

The soft look in Michael’s eyes hasn’t changed and it makes Alex’s breath catch. Under the blanket, curled up together, Isobel and Max are a world away. They’d waited ten years before, what’s another three? 

“I thought about you every day,” Michael speaks, his voice hoarse. “Every day, every night, every moment. Your brothers had to hose me down a few times when I would touch myself, thinking about you.” His gaze slips to Alex’s lips. “Worth it,” he says, before Alex can apologize for his family again. “I would’ve been out in three days if I could have. I’m sorry I gave up in the middle. I’m sorry this happened, but Alex, I’m here now.” His hand is warm, firm, and real on Alex’s hip.

Alex breathes out slowly and as much as this seems too good to be true, one look at Michael dissuades him that anything about this is _good_. Michael has lost too much weight, is bruised, and there’s a haunted look in his eyes. Alex is vacillating between being unable to breathe and feeling like the noise around him will deafen him.

Michael’s here, though.

He’s alive.

“We’re here,” Max announces, the truck coming to a stop. “Let’s get inside and figure out our next move.”

Alex knows that his family needs to be dealt with, that he’ll need to figure out just how much Andrew has been manipulating him over the last three years, but he doesn’t want to move. 

“Come on,” Michael murmurs, leaning in to brush a slow kiss to the corner of Alex’s lips that steals his breath away more than any kiss Andrew has ever given him. He drags the blanket off of them and lets Isobel help him out of the car, supporting him and glaring at Alex at the same time, like she’s become the queen of multitasking.

It’s a good thing that Michael is running on determination, because Alex doesn’t know that he wants to do anything other than sit here, take deep breaths, and weigh the merits of grabbing Michael’s hand and running away.

His father would find them. That’s the thought that gets him moving. 

He gets two steps out of the car before he’s swarmed. “Alex!” Liz’s voice cuts through the panic of Kyle and Maria, all three of them trying to get at him to help him walk. Alex turns to look for Michael, but Isobel and Max have him, the three of them thick as thieves as they huddle in and whisper together.

Alex forces himself to look away, right into the concerned faces of his friends.

“You guys look great,” he says of Liz and Maria’s bridesmaid dresses, of Kyle’s suit. They’d been ready to let him marry Andrew because all of them had thought that Michael was gone, that he had been the best choice. Kyle gets a hand around one side of him and Liz takes the other, all while Maria fusses over him. “Sorry I ran out on my own wedding.”

“Alex,” Liz says sharply. “Are you okay?”

He shakes his head, feeling faint and exhausted and betrayed.

That last one is the one that really hurts. “I think I want to be out of these clothes.” 

Maria squeezes his hand as she leads them inside. “I ran to your place and grabbed as many of your things before your ex-fuckhead could get back and do anything to it.” What she’s grabbed includes his spare prosthetic, crutch, and a bag of his clothes. 

It only hits him, then, that the cabin is a burned site and he won’t be able to go back there. The life that he’d felt so comfortable in has all been a lie and now Alex has to start over. 

With Liz and Kyle hovering by him and Maria grabbing his clothes, he knows that he’s still got his friends. With Michael alive, inside and talking with his siblings, he also knows that he might have a future. Closing his eyes, he sinks into their arms and lets his friends hold him up. 

“You know,” he mumbles, dragging himself back from the group hug. “Next time, one of you should tell me when I’m dating an asshole.”

That gets a laugh from all of them, Kyle squeezing his shoulder. “He had us fooled too,” is what he admits. “Everything,” he says, glancing to where Michael is inside, pacing and shouting at Max and Isobel. “What do you think is going to happen now?”

For Jesse Manes and Alex’s family, the answer is: _Nothing good_.

As for the rest? That’s where Alex doesn’t have the first clue. 

“I vote we change out of wedding clothes, get something to drink, and figure things out from there,” Liz says, ever the voice of reason. “We don’t need to figure out all the answers today.” That feels like it’s more for Alex than anyone else, but he’s going to grasp onto it like a lifeline. 

It sounds, simple as it is, like a plan.


	2. Chapter 2

It's been six hours since Alex ran from his own wedding and it still doesn’t seem real. 

He's sitting in the backyard with a glass of water, a blanket over his shoulders, and strict instructions from Kyle that if he feels lightheaded, he needs to shout for someone inside. He hears the door open behind him, but Alex forces himself not to look. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up. 

It turns out, he probably could have, because it’s Michael, who’s got a bottle of acetone with him, and a blanket of his own. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

Alex scoffs, rubbing at his tear-tracked cheeks with the blanket so Michael doesn’t see that he’s been falling apart. “I just found out that my relationship’s been a lie, the man I thought was dead was imprisoned and tortured by my family and my fiancé, and I don’t know which of them I’m planning to get revenge on first. And you, you, who escaped being tortured and imprisoned for three years, you’re asking me how I’m doing?”

Michael approaches slowly, gesturing to the space on the bench beside Alex, asking silently for permission. Alex nods as he sniffs, but he doesn’t move away when Michael sits. He stays, pressed flush against him, because after thinking he was gone, he’ll take every last moment with Michael he can get.

“How did you escape? I know they had that place set up like Caulfield, with restrictions. You said you didn’t have your powers?” Alex asks the question that’s been on his mind for ages. He’s sure that at some point, Michael will want to ask _him_ the questions, but not yet. 

He needs to know what happened.

“For a long time, I didn’t really fight,” Michael admits, staring at his hands. “I kept waiting for you to show up and you never did.”

Alex can feel the pain of that in his soul. “I watched you zipped up in a body bag. My father showed me an autopsy,” he says numbly. “Max and Isobel couldn’t feel you. We all thought you were dead.”

“I kind of was, for a bit,” Michael admits. “They hauled me back to the prison and had one of the aliens revive me. I’m pretty sure Jesse wanted me to suffer, not for me to be dead.”

Alex feels his stomach turn, and he closes his eyes. “I never came to look for you because I thought you were dead. Michael, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have believed him, but he had so much evidence.”

“I know,” Michael soothes. “I know, I figured that out when your brothers and your dad kept crowing about it, especially when they hooked you up with that asshole,” he says bitterly. “I figured I knew what Jesse’s end game was, so I had to start getting smart. My powers might make me different from humans, but my real superpower is the fact that I am way smarter than anyone who worked on that base.”

“What’d you do?”

“Your dad employed other people. Scientists, medical staff. During one of their physicals, I noticed that the bomb from the blueprints was at the facility, but that they were struggling with it. I played weak. Begged for them to stop hurting me and in exchange, I’d help with their little project. It took a while to convince them that I’d turn traitor to save my own hide, but eventually they bought it. I think Flint was in over his head and wanted the help and they thought I was safe because they’d taken away my abilities and separated me from you,” he admits. “From there, it wasn’t hard figuring out when you were getting married, so I sabotaged the bomb in a way that I knew they’d take me out to fix, when your family wouldn’t be there.”

Alex is holding his breath as Michael talks, and even though he knows how this story ends, his heart is racing like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I’m not proud about it, but the guard they had on me was pretty easy to escape once I got my hands on a heavy enough object. I disabled the bomb, got my security devices off, and then I uh, I opened all the doors and used the chaos to escape. I’m pretty sure they called your Dad and your brothers, which was why they were in such a rush to get you down the aisle.”

Alex isn’t surprised and he thinks Michael’s right.

They knew what was coming.

No, scratch that. They knew _who_ was coming to save Alex.

“You think the other aliens escaped?”

Michael shakes his head, clearly upset about it. “I doubt it. They’d been there a lot longer than I had been, they were pretty subdued and easy to control. We’re not leaving them there. First step of the plan was making sure you didn’t get trapped in their web, but step two is getting them out of that prison. Don’t worry, though, we won’t drag you into it.”

Alex squints at Michael, wondering if he’s serious. “What the fuck? Why wouldn’t I help?”

“Because even though it might have been a lie, you still spent three years with that guy,” Michael says, pointedly not saying his name. “I’d never ask you to go up against your family, your ex-fiancé, especially not after today. Max and Iz and I have got this. The others will help.”

“And I will too,” Alex insists, his self-righteous anger loud to his own ears. “My own family lied to me. They told me that you were dead, they tried to marry me off to one of their own, they were spying on me. If you think that I’m not going to be the one to hack you into that prison, then you are _not_ even remotely a genius, Guerin.”

Michael’s staring at him and Alex worries that he’s said something wrong.

The last thing he needs after all of this is to drive Michael away without even meaning to. 

“What?” Alex says defiantly, also unwilling to go back on his words.

“I never forgot how much I loved you, love you,” he corrects, “but sometimes, Alex, you remind me and it’s like the force of a crash landing.” He lets out a soft huff, reaching for Alex’s hand to tug them into his own.

Both hands, both _healed_ hands. 

Alex stares at Michael, shocked that he hadn’t noticed it before (though, the day has been fairly wild). “Michael…”

“When they brought me back from the dead, they didn’t exactly pick and choose what got fixed,” Michael admits, flexing his fingers. “I enjoyed having to watch your Dad’s face every time he had to watch me have full use of my hands. It helped when it came to working on their smart bomb, so they clearly didn’t mind me being whole again.”

Alex stares at Michael and he thinks he knows what he means about it feeling like a crash landing. 

His heart is racing, his skin feels clammy, and even though he’s thirty, he feels like he’s that idiotic seventeen-year-old kid again, who’d fallen in love and didn’t know what to do about it. He reaches over to take Michael’s hand in his own, slowly sliding his fingertips up Michael’s palm, sliding their fingers together so that he can hold his hand. 

He knows what to do.

“Count me in,” Alex breathes, noticing that he’s drifted closer to Michael, his nose almost brushing Michael’s cheek from where he’s sitting. He forces himself to back off, because today’s so fraught with tangled emotions that he knows it would be a mistake. Michael still hasn’t cut his hair, still has the lingering smell of antiseptic on him, and inside, Kyle is cancelling all honeymoon reservations for him.

Their timing might not be perfect, but that’s fine.

Alex has a family to bring down. They can make up on their lost time plenty, once they know that Jesse Manes and his group are no longer a threat.

* * *

“Is everyone ready?”

Alex glances to each of the three aliens in the back of the van. They’re parked a mile from the secondary prison and he knows that they won’t stay still for very long. Max and Isobel both look murderous and no matter how much Alex had begged them to wear masks, they’d refused.

“Isobel will make them forget,” had been Max’s icy promise. 

“We want them to see our faces,” had been Isobel’s opinion on the matter.

“There’s only five aliens left,” Michael says, leaning back from the front seat. “Kyle’s waiting back at the hospital to treat them, fabricate the paperwork,” he shares. “None of them are dangerous, this is the minimum-security version, the one where they keep the aliens they think are helpful for their plans. Scientific advisors, brainy techs, that kind of thing.” 

Aliens that are like him, is what he doesn’t say. 

“How are your powers?” Alex asks Michael, because he doesn’t know nearly enough about the technology they’d been using to suppress them.

Michael glances around the van and zeroes his focus in on some of the junk sitting in the cup holders, making a pair of sunglasses, a pen, and a bottle of water float in a circle in the air. “I’d say back to normal,” he says. “My last dose of the neutralizing drug was over a day ago and so long as I don’t go into any of the rooms that negate the powers, we should be fine.”

Alex finishes loading his gun, sliding the safety on before putting it in the holster. “And if we aren’t, that’s where I come in.”

Max and Isobel are already moving, because they all know the plan. They’re responsible for freeing the aliens using the card that Alex had programmed to disable the locks on the doors. Isobel would get the guards out of the way, which left the bomb to Alex and Michael. Considering how much work Michael had put into it, he was the best option to disable it. 

Alex also knew the likelihood of avoiding his family in all this was slim to nothing. 

“This way,” Michael leads, checking the blueprints. Seeing as he’d never approached the prison from the outside, he needs the map to help guide the way. 

It’s been three years since they infiltrated Caulfield, but the déjà vu that Alex experiences as they walk through the prison feels thick in the air, like it might choke him with unwanted nostalgia. He forces himself not to think about that, instead staring at Michael worriedly. It’s only been days since he escaped from here and he’s back in it.

“Are you sure you should…?”

“Alex,” Michael cuts him off. “Don’t.”

He looks wound tight, all the tension evident in the pull of his lips and the way his forehead is furrowed. Michael clearly isn’t happy to be here, but he wants to be. 

“I’ve been working on this bomb for them for three years. I’m the best option to disable it.” 

He knows it, Alex knows it, and so do Max and Isobel, which is why they’re here. He trusts them to get the other aliens out using his technology, so he takes a few longer steps to get to Michael’s side, pressing a hand to the small of his back. It’s not exactly an apology, but it is a show of trust. 

“I know,” is all Alex says. “That doesn’t mean I don’t hate it.”

Michael says nothing, but he stops charging forward. He slows down enough that Alex is able to keep up with him, having fallen somewhat out of shape over the last three years. The bitter part of his mind asks himself if that had been on purpose, a ploy from Andrew and his father to make sure that he couldn’t dismantle their plans.

He'll show them that he’s still more than capable.

“Here,” Michael guides, checking the blueprints on the phone. He’s come to a stop and is staring at the door. “This is where they kept the bomb. This is where I escaped from.”

Alex slides up to the door while Michael keeps guard, hacking into the lock to get it open. The door slides open and Alex can’t believe how much it hits him when he sees the scene before him. The bomb looks exactly as it had in the blueprint, but it’s the evidence of what happened here only days before that gets to him.

They must not have had time to clean up yet. 

There are a few droplets of blood on the ground, pieces of glass and metal, and the station is still running, though no one is here. The bomb is dormant and no one is working on it. Michael grabs the toolkit he’d brought in with him, rounding the bomb to the control panel to start taking it apart.

“If they’re watching the cameras, they’ll know we’re here,” Alex warns, since they hadn’t had time to disable the systems. 

Michael peers from around the bomb. “I’m hearing ‘hurry’?”

“I don’t want to have to murder anyone to make sure you don’t get put in one of these cells again,” is Alex’s curt reply, “but I will. So, yeah. _Hurry_.” 

He gets back to work and Alex makes a beeline for the consoles so he can help with the cells from here. The card will get the doors open, but only one at a time. He hadn’t been sure if he could access them from the central mainframe, but it’s this or pace uselessly and he knows which option he’d rather be doing.

“Almost there,” Michael calls to him, voice muffled. “I need another two minutes and we’re in countdown mode.”

“Be safe,” Alex warns, “The last thing we need is this thing going off and hurting you and the others.”

There’s no response, but Alex can _see_ Michael’s wordless eyeroll in his mind as he lets his fingers fly over the keys, too distracted and busy to notice when they’re suddenly not alone. 

“Alex, what are you doing?” Alex freezes where he’s hacking into the cells, going still as his spine straightens. From the sound of Andrew’s voice, he’s only a few feet to his side. Alex takes in a deep breath, turning so that he can face his ex-fiancé, knowing that he needs to buy Michael the time to disable the bomb without triggering an initiation sequence. 

Alex isn’t surprised to see Andrew here, but he can’t help the disappointment.

“This is where you are, after the wedding got called off?” Alex asks with thinly-veiled disdain. “Already back in Dad’s pocket, trying to make him happy because you screwed up and couldn’t get me down the aisle?”

“At least I’m not here to ruin his life’s work,” Andrew snaps back at him.

For years, Alex had always loved looking at Andrew. His dark blonde hair had an effortless wave to it and he was handsome in that old movie star way that made him seem effortlessly at ease with his charisma and charm. His eyes were piercing grey-blue and they’d never been kind, but they’d always been striking.

Now, Alex can barely stand to look at him.

“What are you doing here, Alex?” Andrew asks. He’s not armed, which means he hadn’t been expecting trouble, and it’s a stroke of luck that Alex isn’t going to argue with. 

Alex gives Andrew a dubious look. “You’re way too smart to have to ask that question.”

That’s when the alarm system starts blaring. Alex suspects that Michael did that on purpose, because it would be all the more dramatic. Staged or not, they clearly catch Andrew off guard. “What did you do?” he asks, panicked, his eyes flickering to the smart bomb, which has been dismantled and powered down while they’ve been speaking, and then to one of the cells in the nearby hall, which has a crack in the glass.

Michael strolls over to join them like he hasn’t just started a ten-minute countdown until the whole place goes up in flames. He’s spinning a wrench in hand, coming to a stop beside Alex, with a dangerously angry look levelled on Andrew. 

“If you want to try and fight for him, you can,” Michael says, but it’s clear from his tone that it would be a stupid choice. “If you want to save your own ass? Run.” He raises a brow, like he’s waiting to see what he plans to do, but that he’s definitely gunning for option number one.

Truthfully, there’s a small and awful part of Alex that’s pleading with Andrew to at least fight for him, if only to prove that not all of it had been a lie. He wants to think that something in the last three years had been real enough that Andrew would at least argue for Alex, would try and fight for him, even if Alex knows where his heart lies.

At the first chance he gets, Andrew runs.

“Good riddance,” Michael spits after him, even as Alex feels both pain and relief hitting him at once. It hurts to see that it had all been a lie, but he’s so relieved that he hadn’t wound up stuck with him.

The alarms blaring remind him of Caulfield and he knows it must be the same for Michael. “Come on,” Alex says, grabbing Michael’s hand. They’re not going to push this to the last minute this time, not if he can help it.

From here, it’s not a maze to get to the exit, but they do need to ascend through the pits of the prison to get back to the main floor. It includes going past the base of operations, which is where they run into trouble. They’re in the last corridor before the exit when Alex’s hope of escaping without a confrontation goes up in smoke. 

“Alex!”

Jesse Manes’ booming voice causes him to stop in his tracks. 

Unfortunately, Michael also skitters to a stop, as much as Alex wishes that he would be smart and keep moving. He won’t be as easy to shake off as Andrew, who’d clearly only ever been in this for himself. Alex shoves at Michael to try and get him behind him.

He’s been waiting for this since he ran out on his own wedding, but he’s not prepared for the avalanche of rage that crashes over his frame as he stares at his father. He doesn’t even know where to start.

“Alex,” Michael’s voice hisses in his ear, the urgency clear.

He doesn’t have to remind him. 

Alex keeps walking backwards, because in five steps, there’s a gated door that will rest between him and his father. “I’d ask you to tell me why you did it, but I don’t even want to give you that chance,” he says. 

Four steps away.

“Alex, you know the threat the aliens pose to us.”

“You let me believe Michael was dead!”

Three steps.

“Alex,” Jesse says, trying to placate him. “You have to believe that every choice I’ve made has been for the greater good.” _Every choice_ means so many ugly things and Alex knows them all. It means the aliens in Caulfield, it means killing Jim Valenti, it means letting Michael die and then torturing him, it means trying to marry his son off to his own agent.

Two steps to the door, and then the last and Alex slams the door shut as the alarm blares and tells them that they have under two minutes before the whole place goes up in flames.

“You understand, Dad,” Alex says, feeling the tug on his shirt from Michael’s powers, a subtle reminder that they need to _go_. “Don’t you?” he gets out, his eyes blurry with tears, even though he knows this has to happen. “It’s for the greater good.”

Those are the last words that he’ll ever say to his father.

He turns the lock on the door and runs, shutting down every possible avenue that leads to regret. After everything that’s happened, he knows that there’s no way he can let Jesse out. He’s too much of a threat to Michael and his family, and he’s also too much of a threat to Alex and his friends. Michael’s holding back on his speed, just so he can make sure Alex makes it out. He pushes the door open and shoves Alex through it.

“Come on!” Michael shouts at him, and Alex sees the group of guards, scientists, and even Andrew piled up in an unconscious, sleeping pile of bodies far enough away from the blast radius that means that Isobel hadn’t run into any issues.

“T-minus ten seconds…” comes the warning from behind them.

Then, the world goes hot and bright. Michael drags him to the ground outside of the prison, a hand pressed to his body to keep him down from the blast. It still echoes in his ears, reminds him of Caulfield, but it’s not Michael’s family trapped inside.

No, this time, it’s Jesse Manes, going down with his ship.

As much as Alex knows he deserves it, he can’t help the numb feeling that invades him. The last three years may have been a lie, but he’d felt like he’d repaired some of his relationship with his father. He knows, now, that it had all been a lie, but knowing that his father is gone, that he’ll never get a chance to fix things, that’s a reality he has to live with.

Still, when he turns his head and sees Michael staring at the flames with worry, Alex doesn’t feel like he’s lost everything.

It’s because he knows what that feeling is like.

It’s how he’d felt watching Michael being zipped up in a body bag, three years ago. This hurts, but he’d lost his father the very first time that his father had beat him. From that point on, Alex had a choice to become the son that Jesse Manes had wanted or to lose the hope of ever having his father’s love and respect.

He'd proudly taken that second road.

Alex had never expected it to lead him here, but he also knows that he doesn’t regret it. Closing his eyes, he sinks onto the ground, letting Michael collect him in his arms to hold on tight, rocking him back and forth, whispering apologies into his ear. Alex wants to tell him not to be sorry, that there’s nothing to be sorry about, but he can’t find the words.

His father is dead, and as much as Alex knows he should feel something, there’s an absence of anything. 

_Shock_ , his mind tells him. It must be shock.

Or maybe Alex has finally realized that he’d chosen his family on his wedding day and Jesse Manes, his brothers, and Andrew aren’t a part of it. 

“Come on,” Michael coaxes, his lips sliding from Alex’s ear along his jaw, prying himself away. “We need to get to the hospital.” He’s tugging on Alex’s hand to get him towards the van, where Max and Isobel are tending to the alien prisoners. The job isn’t done and Alex reminds himself of that fact. 

The prison is in pieces and Alex’s life has been irrevocably changed, but as he climbs into the front seat with Michael, he’s convinced that his active part in changing it means that it’s a step forward, a path to where he wants to be.

It might not be fully _who_ he wants to be, yet, but he’s on his way back to figuring out who Alex Manes is, without any interference. He’ll finish the mission, and then he’ll figure out the rest.

* * *

Two years later, Alex is back in a suit, staring at himself in the mirror on his wedding day. It had taken him months to try and see what had been his father’s influence on his life and what parts had actually belonged to him and him alone. Thirty-two years old, and Alex has figured out a few things.

He still loves music, his job is still a source of satisfaction, and he’s as madly in love with Michael Guerin as he has been since he was a teenager.

Today, he plans to do something about that last part.

“I don’t know,” he says, fidgeting with the black bowtie that he’s tying, smoothing his fingers over it as Kyle affixes a pink boutonniere to the powder blue suit. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“You’re the one who wanted the nostalgia,” Kyle reminds him. “You sure this is about the suit and not the wedding?”

“This time? I’m sure,” Alex guarantees, not mentioning that it had been Michael’s idea to try and fix an old memory. He smooths a hand down over the tie and takes another look at himself in the mirror. “It’s perfect,” he decides, giving Kyle a light push so they can leave the Airstream to where everyone else is waiting. “Just don’t deck me today and we can avoid repeating the past.”

“I’m under strict instructions from Guerin that if I even think about it, Isobel melts my brain,” Kyle guarantees, squeezing Alex’s shoulder before he opens the Airstream door and heads out first.

Ducking out of the Airstream, Alex grins as he sees what Isobel has managed to do with a few of the old pieces of junk, creating a wedding arch with hubcaps, wire, glass, and big flowers woven in. He’d never call the location ugly, not after everything they’ve gone through here, but it feels more them than a stuffy community hall ever could.

It’s so much easier to do this walk when the man waiting for him at the end of it is the one he’d wanted to do this with all along. 

That said, that still doesn’t prepare Alex for seeing Michael step out from behind the wedding arch, clean-shaven, tidy, and wearing that navy blue suit that he’d been wearing at prom (even if the shoulders had to be taken out somewhat). Isobel must have done something to control his hair, because it looks incredible. 

He doesn’t even realize he’s stopped until he feels someone poke him in the back of the leg, which turns out to be Liz and Maria both. “Get a move on,” Liz teases, phone in the air, clearly recording this all. “Put the poor man out of his misery.”

Alex glances back to where Michael is fidgeting, looking like if Alex doesn’t close the space between him, he’ll take a few steps, grab Alex over his shoulder, and elope the way they’d talked about doing in the early days of their engagement. 

He pushes back the shock that this is happening and makes it to the front, where Michael and Max are waiting for him.

“Sorry,” Alex whispers. “Still can’t believe we’re doing this,” he admits, but he’s nearly laughing with the disbelief, overjoyed with it. 

Michael clearly feels the same from the bright grin that’s curling up on his lips. He reaches out to fix Alex’s boutonniere with a fond smile. “Neither can I,” he admits, and digs out the rings that he'd made with glass and metal so they would evoke the alien ship’s feel. 

With those in hand, they both turn to Max to let him guide the ceremony.

Quick, but with feeling. That had been their request. Max does a great job of cutting through it all, getting right to the important part. “Vows?” he prompts, glancing to Michael first. They’re going to do the official ones after, but first it’s what they need to say.

Alex has the feeling that he’s going to end up crying, that it’ll be on video, and that he’s not going to care. 

“I could tell you a lot of things, Alex,” Michael starts, his voice hushed so that it’s more of a private moment, even though there’s only a handful of people here to witness this. “I think all I need to say is that you were the reason I kept fighting. You’re the reason I wanted to live. I love you. I always have. You told me once that I was good at giving you reasons to walk away, but all I want to do with my life, all I wanna do, is give you reasons to stay.” 

He's nervous, Alex can tell. He wants to cut in and tell Michael that he doesn’t have to worry, but he’s not done. He’s also kind of pissed because Michael’s stepped on Alex’s vows, but he’ll get there.

With eyes starting to fill with tears, he reaches out to take Michael’s hands in his own, squeezing gently to coax him to keep going.

“I can’t explain it, but when I’m with you, the universe feels right. I thought maybe it was music, all those years ago, but I’m starting to think that you’re the reason the chaos in my head dies down. I love you,” he says again. “I’m always going to love you. We’ve got this,” he guarantees, and glances to Max to give him a nod to move on, that he’s done.

“Alex?” Max prompts, softly. 

Alex had rehearsed the standard vows when he’d been meaning to walk down the aisle with Andrew, but with Michael, this whole day means so much more, which is why they’d decided to go with their own vows before the standard fare. 

“You asshole,” is how he starts, which gets a laugh. “You took some of my vows, because I was going to tell you that I plan to give you every reason to stay,” he says, the tidal wave of fondness and adoration and nerves slamming into him. “That I got tired of walking away years ago and I would have chased you around the world if I had even the slightest hint that you were alive. I promise to hold onto you so tightly, so no one can steal you away again.”

It will never be Jesse Manes, but that doesn’t mean Alex intends to let anyone else try. 

“I’ll never look away, and you should know that I’m not walking away, at least, not without you by my side. We’re connected, but more than that, I know that we’re ready. I know I am, and I know that no matter where we go, no matter where we end up, it’s going to be together.”

In sickness and health, forsaking all others, as long as they both shall live.

With Alex’s family out of the picture and the alien threats all dealt with, that last vow might actually stand a chance of being a very long, very boring, very perfect life. 

“Then, Alex and Michael,” Max says, a smug smile on his face, as if even though Alex’s family aren’t here to witness it, somehow they’ll feel this shift in the fabric of things, “I now pronounce you husbands.” 

Alex doesn’t wait for Max to give him permission to kiss Michael, grabbing him by his cheeks, kissing him until his whole body starts to lose its relationship with gravity and he melts forward, supported by Michael’s hand at his elbow, Alex’s hand tangled in Michael’s neat curls. They press together until they’re one tangled mess of a person, the whole world fading away around them until it’s only Alex and Michael, Michael and Alex, and they’re standing on the precipice of their life together.

It’s his wedding day and Alex has never felt more right in his life.


End file.
